Soft sounds against a background of gray
And rainbows falling from the quiet sky
Each prismatic droplet filled with echoes of laughter
Dewy mists existing in the places of silence
And deeply tiered puddles of wonder somewhere
Opened up, to swallow the colorful notes
Releasing their chorus in rippled musical undertow.
It was a canvas of swirls and little girl’s galoshes
Like a slow brush stroke painted melody
She danced in rivulets of wild-eyed fantasy
Her petals blossomed in the spring shower
Yellows struggling to grow in a sea of coals
Caught in static absence of shimmering sunlight
Only her harmonic tones lifted the canopy of clouds.
An old man stood staring at the portrait
of early morning rain and fancied himself
once the same, smiling at his reflection
in the pool his wrinkles replaced by troughs
of tiny waves, he saw his youth radiate again
from behind his hazy blues
as gentle evening breezes blew
through ancient greys.